“[Your husband will be hands on?] Yeah… that’s not going to happen. Oh, he’ll be there at first, maybe even change a diaper or two until the novelty wears off, but those 4 a.m. feedings he said he’d help out with? Forget it. Does he have boobs? Then you’re the only bar in town. That baby can scream into a bullhorn and Johnny won’t budge. I’m not done. You’ll never wear a bikini again. You haven’t seen me naked. My stomach looks like Spanish stucco and my breasts resemble two balloons you find behind the couch a week after the party.

Most women are liars. My mother was a liar and her mother was a liar and your mother was a liar. It’s a lie every generation tells the next so they can get grandchildren. You need to hear this, you have to be prepared. Your children hate you and steal from your purse. Your husband will begin to buy your birthday presents at the car wash and the kicker, for the rest of your life there will be so many moments when you feel lonely, but you will NEVER BE ALONE.”